


Sovereignty

by gamerfic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Worship, F/M, Jealousy, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Break Up, Praise Kink, Ritual Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, dominant Lavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/pseuds/gamerfic
Summary: Abelas and Lavellan convince Solas to participate in an Avvar ritual meant to give Lavellan the edge in the final battle against Corypheus. It doesn't turn out the way Solas expects.





	Sovereignty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ValkyrieNeedsFood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieNeedsFood/gifts).



The sentinel elves of the Temple of Mythal came to Skyhold on a cloudy autumn day. From his lair in the rotunda, Solas heard the clamor of their arrival and abandoned the scroll he was perusing to see what the commotion was about. Outside in the courtyard, people were streaming down the great stone staircase and toward the half-dozen tall elves in grey cloaks walking slowly through the massive main gates. _Strange,_ thought Solas as he recognized Abelas leading the group. _I wonder what made him change his mind._

Rapid footsteps rang out on the flagstones behind him as Ellana Lavellan hurried past. Josephine and Cassandra flanked her, their heads bent toward hers in hushed and hasty conference as they descended the steps. If the Inquisitor noticed him, she did not acknowledge him. He glimpsed her newly bare face, her drawn and exhausted features, and averted his gaze. As deeply as he cared for her, as much as he wished things could have gone differently between them, he had been right to walk away from her. The pain they both felt now would become even worse if he stayed.

Solas's curiosity about the visitors remained unsatisfied. He peered down into the courtyard as Ellana and the sentinels conferred. Abelas seemed to be doing most of the talking, although from this distance Solas could not hear what he was saying. The sentinel elves appeared cautious and guarded, maintaining a safe and respectful difference from the Inquisition's representatives. Ellana listened to them intently, the way she always did when she wanted to be sure she was fully understanding what another person was telling her. _The way she once listened to me._

Josephine was talking now, undoubtedly handling all the diplomatic maneuvers Ellana had never learned in the course of her education as First to her clan's Keeper. And then, to Solas's great surprise, Abelas extended his hand and clasped Ellana's in a gesture of trust and solidarity. A cheer went up and Abelas lifted his head, scanning the gathered crowd as if to identify his supporters. For a moment he looked directly at Solas. Whether or not Abelas recognized him as a fellow ancient elf, or as the darker thing Solas truly was, mattered little in the moment. Whatever was happening was not something Solas wanted to be involved with. He turned away from the courtyard, hurrying back into the keep without regard for the haste of his departure. Showing interest had been a mistake. He hoped it would not cost him too dearly.

In the following weeks and months, Solas continued to withdraw from life at Skyhold. By now, word of his split from the Inquisitor would undoubtedly have spread throughout the keep, and he did not care to hear anyone's opinions on the matter. He spent his days in the rotunda, absorbed in books and scrolls and frescoes, emerging only to eat and bathe, speaking only when spoken to. At night, the Fade remained his constant companion, and he wandered through memories of a long-lost world that might yet be again if he could find the strength to recreate it.

Ellana, for her part, seemed disinclined to question Solas's absence. Once he had been her nearly constant companion in her adventures across Ferelden and Orlais. Now she rarely asked for his assistance, preferring instead to invite Dorian or Vivienne when she wanted the help of another mage. _It is for the best,_ he told himself, even as he grieved the loss of both her companionship and his once-easy access to the inner workings of the Inquisition.

Solas expected the sentinel elves to accomplish whatever it was they had come to Skyhold to do and then depart, like so many other temporary allies before them. But a few weeks after their arrival, he saw a trio of sentinels conversing outside the baths one morning and realized they had never left. This, at last, caused him to break his self-imposed isolation long enough to make a few discreet inquiries about their continued presence.

"I can't believe you didn't notice until now," said Dorian, raising an eyebrow as Solas handed him the book he'd borrowed months before. They both knew its return was a poor pretext for the visit.

"Nor can I," said Solas. "I have been...distracted."

"Haven't we all." Dorian shook his head and chuckled. "You'd best get used to them being around. I'm told they've sworn permanent fealty to the Inquisition."

A strange, sourceless dread crept into Solas. "Fascinating. Why would ancient elves do such a thing? I hardly think they should care what humans do."

"Well, after what happened to the Temple of Mythal, it's not as if they have anywhere else to go, is it? They may as well join the Inquisition if they believe in its mission."

"Do they? I can't imagine they would."

"They probably didn't at first, but I suspect they do now. You know how persuasive the Inquisitor can be."

"Indeed," said Solas as he stalked away.

But Solas suspected there was more to the story of the sentinel elves' recently discovered loyalty. Several weeks later, his instincts proved correct. While working on his fresco one evening, he ran out of red paint and ventured out to the market stalls by the main gate to browse their wares before they closed up shop. He bought fresh pigments from an Orlesian merchant and was on his way back to the rotunda when something stopped him near the stables. A familiar whisper drifted out from a shadowed alcove at the bottom of the stone staircase. Two hidden figures lingered there, huddled together against the chill of the night, oblivious to his presence as well as to everything else around them. Ellana and Abelas.

Solas stood, half-hidden behind stacked bales of hay, and watched as Ellana leaned into Abelas's tight embrace. His hands rested casually on her hips, holding her firmly against him. Her arms were draped around Abelas's neck as she whispered to him, smiling slightly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. Something she said made him laugh, a deep and incongruous sound. By the dim light of the fading sun and the flickering torches, Solas saw Abelas touch Ellana's face, tilting her chin upward until their lips met. She melted into the kiss, her mouth hungrily devouring his, and Solas thought, _They've done this before._

Thick, burning jealousy choked him. He turned and all but ran up the stairs, heedless of whether anyone noticed him. It was doubtful Abelas or Ellana would; what they shared now was much more interesting than an old rival's bitterness. He fled back to the rotunda, and from there into the Fade, where he lost himself in passionate memories and erotic dreams of everything he had given up when he left her. It was weak and unseemly to use the spirits of the Fade in such a selfish manner, but on such a night as this he could hardly be more ashamed of himself than he already was.

From then on, Solas tried not to think about Abelas and Ellana together. For the most part, he failed. He did not have to ask himself what he lacked, or what Ellana saw in Abelas. It was all too clear. Abelas offered her honesty, and commitment, and the ability to give of himself fully and without reservation. He supposed he should be happy for her; if all went according to his plan, this world and its people had little time left to enjoy romance and passion, and at least she would not be lonely in those final days. Then why did each reminder of how thoroughly and swiftly he had been replaced linger with a bitterness he could not dispel?

Eventually, Josephine interrupted his self-pity. She entered the rotunda one day and cleared her throat softly yet insistently. He turned away from the fresco panel he wasn't really painting and said irritably, "What is it?"

"Inquisitor Lavellan would like to see you in the war room," replied Josephine, not remotely flustered by his rudeness.

"Can it wait?"

"I don't believe so."

"Very well." Solas set down his brush, more forcefully than was truly necessary, and followed Josephine through the great hall and toward the isolated chambers where the war council met. He expected her to escort him into the room and join him and the Inquisitor for the meeting, along with Leliana and Cullen. But when they reached her office in the antechamber, she sat down behind her desk and resumed making notes in a massive, leather-bound ledger. "Will you not accompany me?"

"The Inquisitor requested privacy. I am told this is a sensitive matter."

"I see." The more Solas learned about this errand, the less he liked it - but it was too late to turn back now. He took his leave of Josephine with a curt nod, walked down the rubble-strewn corridor, and pushed the heavy wooden doors open.

The last time Solas had been here, it had been with Ellana. One quiet evening many months before, she had invited him to join her for a walk around Skyhold. They had strolled together for hours, hand in hand, conversing about nothing in particular, until they found themselves alone in the silent blackness of the war room. She had kissed him impulsively there in the dark, and his desire had overcome his better judgment. They had made love on the war table, scattering stone markers and tiny flags across its wooden surface. Ellana had needed to rise early the next morning to correct the jumbled mess before the day's first meetings. The memory still brought a slight smile and a rush of heat to his face - both of which immediately vanished when he saw Ellana and Abelas behind the table.

One of Abelas's hands rested comfortably in the small of Ellana's back. Solas's stomach twisted at the sight. "What do you want from me, Inquisitor?" he asked sharply.

Ellana met his eyes and said calmly, "Your _help_ , Solas."

He choked down the shame that suddenly flooded him. No doubt she wanted to tell this to him even less than he wanted to hear it. He owed it to her to listen. "Then tell me what you need, and I will do what I can."

"That's all I ask." Ellana stepped away from Abelas and slowly walked around the table. "You already know we'll need to confront Corypheus soon."

"Yes."

"We're not ready. At least, I don't feel like we are. Morrigan says that when she drank from the Well of Sorrows, it gave her the ability to defeat his red lyrium dragon. After she kills the dragon, we can kill Corypheus for good."

"A reasonable plan."

"It is - except I don't trust Morrigan. The Well has taught her a few things, all right, but how can I be sure all this will work the way she says it will? Even if I were certain of it, I hate relying so heavily on her. I didn't want to drink from the Well, it's true. But I don't want my success to rest on someone else's abilities, either. I hate feeling so helpless."

 _I know you do_ , though Solas, but all he said was, "You are wise to consider all aspects of your strategy, Inquisitor. But I don't understand where I come in."

"Lately, Ellana and I have been traveling together in the Frostback Basin," said Abelas. Solas bristled inwardly at his casual use of her given name. "We have learned much from the Avvar tribespeople there."

"The barbarians?" said Solas, his interest abruptly piqued.

"So some have called them," said Ellana. "Honestly, you'd be surprised by how much they know about spirits. They're far more experienced than anyone I've met from the Circles - or among the Dalish, for that matter."

"Intriguing. And you believe their knowledge can help you?"

"I know it can. The Avvar have developed some fascinating ways to cooperate with spirits. Their shamans can even borrow strength from a spirit, in exchange for carrying out that spirit's will."

"This sounds like possession," said Solas, mild alarm creeping into his voice.

"It isn't," said Abelas. "It is a far more collaborative process. If the summoning spell is structured correctly, the alliance is temporary and subject to many safety constraints. Both the spirit and the mage benefit from the arrangement."

"And you believe you have found such a spell to help you defeat Corypheus."

In response, Abelas picked out a scroll from a jumble of documents and rolled it to Solas across the broad expanse of the war table. It was made of coarse vellum and tied with a red leather strap, and Solas wrinkled his nose against its strong scent of woodsmoke and animal musk. "Go ahead," said Abelas. "Read it."

Cautiously, Solas undid the strap. The document was written in a crude and clumsy hand, thick uneven characters scrawled in dark blue ink across the beige page. The language was an old-fashioned Fereldan dialect, and Solas struggled to read it fluently. Even so, the illustrations of runes and sigils accompanying the first few lines quickly revealed the scroll's purpose. "This is a ritual of invocation," he said, squinting at the document. "To summon a spirit of...royalty?"

"We think 'sovereignty' is a closer translation," said Ellana. "Keep reading."

Solas continued to read, unsure of what he should be looking for until he reached the middle of the page. There the ink color changed, the handwriting became more fluid, and the language...He looked up in surprise. "Part of this is in Elvhen."

Abelas nodded. "The Avvar shamans, or perhaps the Alamarri before them, must have exchanged information with ancient Elvhen mages."

"It's really quite fascinating," added Ellana. "Obviously, I've never cast a spell quite like this before, but I've been studying a lot and I think I can pull it off. As the Inquisitor, I have plenty of justification for summoning Sovereignty and asking for its aid in the fight against Corypheus. If the ritual works, the spirit should support me and enhance my magic until Corypheus is defeated, in exchange for the new energy it will get from being respected as a leader."

"And if it doesn't work?" asked Solas.

"Then things might get interesting." Ellana grinned a devil-may-care grin. Solas knew it well, and loved it still, and his heart seized anew at the memories it brought back. "But the reward is great enough that I'm willing to take the risk."

Solas wondered why Ellana felt the need to inform him about any of this. It was not as if she had always listened to his counsel before. Then his eyes fell on an image farther down the page - a thick triangle, with a crudely-sketched figure positioned at each vertex - and he understood. "The ritual requires a third mage."

"It does," said Abelas grimly.

 _It explains much, and yet…_ "Why not ask Dorian or Vivienne? Surely they would be just as-"

"They're not suitable," said Ellana. "No one but you is, Solas."

"But why?"

"Ellana is leaving out an important detail," Abelas blurted out. "This ritual is sexual in nature."

A hush fell over the war room. Solas, dumbfounded, felt his jaw drop in astonishment. He had heard of such rituals, and how they could take advantage of the mingling of the mages' physical selves along with their magical energies to achieve results rarely seen since the time of Arlathan. But he had never before cast one, not with the Veil in place - and, truth be told, he was not entirely certain he wanted to try it. "Is there no other way?" he said at last.

"I'm sure there is, somewhere," said Ellana. "But this is the one we know about right now. And time is running out."

"How can you possibly ask this of me?"

"Do you think I would ask you if I had any other choice? I want to beat Corypheus even more than I want to never see you again."

Ellana's expression was dour and regretful, her jaw firmly set. Abelas seemed to sense her barely concealed distress. He crossed quickly to where she stood and put his arm around her waist, heedless of anything but her. It was all too much for Solas to take. "I must consider this," he said, and retreated to the rotunda before either of them could say more.

He had spent only moments slouched in his chair, stewing in his confusion and jealousy, when someone pointedly cleared their throat in the door. It was Abelas, of course, leaning against the arched frame with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. "Now what?" Solas snapped.

Abelas advanced on him, moving like a predator. "I know what you are."

Solas froze, terrified that any stray movement might betray him. _How can this be? I don't remember him from Arlathan. Has he disguised himself too? Am I truly so transparent?_ "Do you now," he said, taking pains to keep his tone even and inscrutable.

"You made it obvious at the _vir'abelasan_ when you told me my people yet live. You are an ancient elf, like me. But Ellana doesn't know it, does she?"

Relief flooded him. _He doesn't know as much as he thinks he does. If he knew I were Fen'Harel he would have said so by now._ He leaned slowly forward and confidently met Abelas's gaze. "She does not. But I don't believe it is especially relevant now, is it?"

"That would be for Ellana to determine. In spite of your history with her, she allows you to remain with the Inquisition because she believes you to be useful, and she wishes to keep the promise she made to protect you from the Chantry. But if she knew what you have been hiding from her, she might feel differently."

The implication was all too plain. "But if I do as you command, you will keep my secret. Do you intend to coerce me into fucking you both?"

"How crude," said Abelas with a disdainful sneer. "No. Even if I did, the spell will fail unless all of its participants are fully consenting. It will also fail if the secondary casters lack a... _connection_ to the mage who draws down Sovereignty's power. So you see, our options are rather limited."

"Oh." _He means this will only work because Ellana still cares about me._ Shame gripped Solas anew. In his shock, he had not stopped to consider what Abelas might think about sharing his lover with another - or how Ellana might dislike admitting her true feelings. There were more complexities to this situation than he could have dreamed of. "Then why have you come here at all, if not to threaten me?"

"Because you and I may not be as different as you think. And perhaps if you understood why I have chosen to do as Ellana wishes, it might help to persuade you."

 _You and I are nothing alike, Abelas,_ thought Solas, _and I would destroy you were it not for this cursed Veil and how it weakens me._ But he was curious enough to say, "Enlighten me, then."

"When I left the Temple of Mythal I did not know what to do or where to go. The sentinels' inner sanctum had been destroyed, the Well of Sorrows profaned. And you know as well as I do how poorly this world compares to the one we left behind."

"On this much we can agree," said Solas.

"Try as I might, I could not forget my meeting with Ellana. She genuinely wants to do good, to act honorably. She may not always succeed, but she is _trying_ \- which is more than can be said for many others. If I must remain here, in this world so distant from my ideal, I will give my allegiance to those who are working to fix what is broken."

"An inspiring recitation. What makes you think I am not already trying to fix it?"

"You have broken far more than you have ever fixed, Solas. You hurt Ellana. I see how your absence holds her back every day."

Solas clenched his fists. "You don't understand. I did what I did to spare her from further harm. I have told her I will explain everything when the current crisis is passed. You may find it difficult to believe, but I also keep my promises."

"Then you _do_ still care for her. As she does for you, despite the harm you have done her." Solas knew his lack of response would be taken for agreement. "So answer me this, Solas. If you have not stopped loving her, if you continue to believe she is wise and worthy of respect, what is holding you back from giving her what she asks for?"

"I don't know." In all honesty, when Solas set aside his misgivings about the unusual nature of the ritual itself, he wondered if his reluctance had more to do with a misguided desire to punish Abelas than with any honest objection to the spell itself. Ellana was right - it was foolish to rely entirely on Morrigan's plans to defeat Corypheus, and in the coming battle the Inquisition would need every edge it could get. Abelas, too, was right - if Solas still trusted Ellana (and he did), it would be wise to aid her however he could. Besides, after he took back his orb, it would all be irrelevant anyway. By then, he would be much stronger than her or anyone else, and she would not be able to stop the fulfillment of his plans, no matter what new abilities Sovereignty might lend her in the short term. And beneath it all lurked a baser and greedier part of himself that said, _If you do this you can have her again without guilt or complications._ He hated how much weight he gave those small and selfish desires, but in the end, they were part of what won out. He sighed. "Very well. You've convinced me. Tell Ellana I will participate in her ritual. If she believes it is necessary, I will defer to her judgment."

Abelas nodded, unsmiling. "Good." This was not the sort of decision one exulted in, but Solas heard relief and satisfaction in Abelas's voice. He had to admit he felt the same. "Prepare to travel. Ellana has found a suitable site to perform the ritual a few days' journey from here. We will leave as soon as we are able."

Two days later, Abelas, Ellana, and Solas departed from Skyhold without ceremony in the early morning hours. Cassandra had insisted it was unsafe for them to go alone, so a half-dozen well-armed Inquisition soldiers accompanied them. "They think we're just planning to explore an old abandoned temple, and take advantage of the wards there to test out some spells we can't really do at Skyhold," Ellana assured Abelas and Solas. "You know, mage stuff." Solas had no reason to doubt the soldiers' discretion. If nothing else, perhaps the common human fear of elven magic would prevent them from asking too many questions.

Astride horses and hallas they traveled southeast, descending rapidly out of the Frostback Mountains and into the warmer climes of the foothills and the Fereldan plains. It was spring now, and the landscape around them was coming alive with birdsong and budding trees and early-blooming flowers. Solas paid little attention to its pastoral beauty, or to much of anything at all beyond the unavoidable knowledge of what he was about to do. He threw himself into preparing for the ritual itself, practicing each incantation, sketching out each enchantment, planning for every contingency. Abelas and Ellana did the same. As the three of them pored over books and scrolls by lantern light late into the night - picking the components of the spell apart, debating the merits of various strategies, formulating their plan - Solas could almost imagine that nothing had truly changed, that Ellana was still his lover and companion and Abelas was just a new and temporary ally in their struggle. But when the discussions finally ended and Ellana and Abelas retired to their tent together, it immediately put the lie to every useless fantasy Solas clung to.

At last they came to a swift, narrow river, its banks thickly lined with ancient trees. New foliage stood out bright green against the golden brown of the awakening plains. "We're not far from the ritual site now," Ellana announced. But the sun was about to set, and after a brief conference everyone agreed it would be better to get a good night's rest and cast the spell in the morning. Solas knew it was the wise decision, but it did nothing to alleviate the knot of doubt in his gut or his urgent desire to finish what he had come all this way to do. Or perhaps he wanted simply to be with Ellana once more, under any circumstances. He couldn't be sure of his own motives anymore, and that knowledge troubled him more than anything.

They set up camp on top of a hill and spent the evening preparing for all that was to come. After eating a light supper, each of them found their way to the swollen river in turn to wash themselves in its frigid, fast-rushing waters. Abelas was the last to bathe. In this way, Solas ended up alone with Ellana beside the small campfire he had kindled in front of his tent. He didn't expect to find her there, shivering on a tree stump and combing out her damp hair. When he saw her, he immediately turned away. "My apologies. I can go elsewhere."

"I don't mind if you stay," said Ellana, and Solas chose to believe her. He sat down on a blanket he'd spread out on the other side of the fire ring. "Sorry. I know this is your fire. I was so cold when I got out of the river, I just ran for the first warm spot I could see."

In another life he might have interpreted those words as an invitation to cross to her side and embrace her. He didn't dare to do so now. "You are welcome here," he said instead.

"Thank you."

Neither one of them spoke for some time. A log split apart in the heart of the fire and collapsed in on itself in a shower of orange sparks. The comb rasped through Ellana's tangled hair in a soft, hypnotic rhythm. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. Solas found the silence intolerable. "Ellana, I want you to know...I will keep my promise, when all of this is over."

"You mean, explaining everything to me?"

"Yes."

Ellana shrugged. "If it'll make you feel better, I won't stop you."

Solas tried not to show her how taken aback he felt. "You don't care anymore?"

"That's the wrong way to put it." She lifted her head and held his gaze, her expression shrouded and mysterious in the yellow firelight. "You know me. I've always sought knowledge. I'll listen to whatever you think you need to tell me, and I'm sure I'll learn something from it. But it's not going to change my decisions about you and me. I'm happy with Abelas now, and I'm going to keep on being happy no matter what you tell me. I really do care about you, Solas. I'm glad you stayed. I'm grateful for everything you're doing, for the Inquisition and for me. And I don't regret the time we spent together. It's part of what brought me to Abelas, after all. But once this ritual is finished, I won't _need_ you anymore. I've moved on. You should, too."

"You're right," Solas said softly. "I should." Sudden, unexpected relief washed over him. _None of this has anything to do with me anymore._ He had been jealous of Abelas because he had seen him as a pale imitation of himself - but it was really the other way around. Abelas was the true and faithful lover, Solas the impostor. All along, Solas alone had been clinging to the memory of lost love. For however much time this world had left, Ellana would be happy in the arms of another. He would not even have to share with her the difficult truths that would surely break her heart in ways she could not yet imagine. In the end, was there any better way to show her how much he still loved her? "And I will. Move on, that is."

"Good. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For being willing to cast this spell with me, in spite of it all. I know it hasn't been easy for you or for Abelas."

"I have never doubted your leadership, Inquisitor."

Ellana chuckled. "Come on, Solas. We both know that's not true."

"I suppose we do." Solas suddenly remembered his earlier conversation with Abelas in the rotunda and knew he had more to say. "You must tell Abelas what you have just told me. We spoke some time ago, and he seemed to believe you were...not at peace with me."

"Don't worry, he knows," Ellana said with a smile. "I probably _wasn't_ at peace when he spoke to you. This is fairly a recent development. But Abelas and I have talked about a lot of things lately, and I'm much more confident now. In him, in you, in what we're going to do. This is such a strange spell, not one I ever expected to cast...but I know it's the right call to cast it. I really believe this will make us all stronger. I suppose that's what I _should_ believe if I'm planning to call on a spirit of Sovereignty, right?"

"I suppose so." Solas said no more until Abelas returned from the river and guided Ellana back to their shared tent after a brief exchange of "good night"s. He hoped Abelas shared her optimism. All three of them were powerful mages indeed, but a strange and untested ritual such as this one would likely hold complexities that none of them could anticipate. The scroll might hold subtleties they had not fully grasped in their studies. Sovereignty might choose not to show itself. They might not even be powerful enough for the spirit to want to bother with them in the first place. _Now there is only one way to find out if this will work,_ he thought as he crawled into his bedroll for a night of fitful sleep. _I hope we are all as prepared as Ellana thinks we are._

Morning dawned clear and cold, with a brisk western wind loudly rustling in the budding treetops. Solas, Ellana, and Abelas emerged from their tents one by one, each clad in their best robes and carrying their most reliable staff. The soldiers watched them walk down the hillside to the ritual site, having been instructed not to interfere with anything they might hear or sense under any circumstances. Soon the ancient temple came into view - a crumbling and deserted ruin bleached white by the sun, sheltered by the hill, and abutting the riverbanks. Abelas had chosen the site based upon the ancient memories of the servants of Mythal, and he had chosen well. The Veil in the area was already thin, thrumming with pent-up potential. The spell they were about to cast would make it even thinner.

Solas had expected they would need to chase away bandits or wildlife from the ruined temple, as he and Ellana had done in so many once-sacred sites before, but the premises proved completely vacant. Perhaps enough magic yet lingered within to compel even the most ignorant creatures to go elsewhere.

Once they were confident that they would not be interrupted, they proceeded into the temple's inner sanctum. It was built into the side of the hill, the earth shielding it from the elements and concealing it from curious onlookers. Clever slanted openings where the walls met the domed ceiling admitted light and fresh air while maintaining total privacy. A small channel of the river had been diverted into the building to send a thin stream of fresh water bubbling into fountains and basins all around the room. Murals and frescoes had once decorated the space, but their colorful images had long since flaked away. A massive white marble altar dominated the center of the chamber. Ellana leaned against it and said cheerfully, "Shall we begin?"

Wordlessly, the three mages moved to separate sides of the room and went to work. The first steps of the spell were so familiar as to be nearly automatic: a ward to contain the energies they were about to raise, a concealing mist to hide them from interlopers on both sides of the Veil. They sketched complex sigils in the air with their staffs, shouting their intentions into the Fade, preparing the way for the spirit's arrival. Then came the chants, a long series of hymns and supplications and assurances (to Sovereignty as well as to each other) that they were all here of their own free will and still meant to do as they had agreed.

They spiraled toward the center of the chamber, slowly shedding their clothes, until their chanting reached a peak and they stood nude around the altar with their arms raised to the sky. Ellana lay down on its cold, smooth marble top. Solas had brought along a small pot of green ink and a finely pointed brush, which he used to gently paint the final sigil on her bare, trembling stomach. The final stanza of the chant ebbed and faded away, leaving behind an echoing silence. They all knew what needed to happen next, but none of them wanted to begin it.

"Is it working?" asked Abelas, who was perfectly able to feel the magic swirling around them all, begging for release.

Ellana turned to him and said, in an imperious voice not entirely her own, "Kiss me and find out."

Abelas obeyed in a heartbeat, taking her into his arms and covering her mouth with his own. Ellana's response - and the spell's - was intense and immediate. Solas felt his flesh prickle as the force of their passion fed into the enchantments they had so cautiously set and the Veil around them grew ever more permeable. Something like anticipation coiled in his belly as he jealously watched their kisses deepen, and he realized, _The sooner I involve myself in this, the less time it will take._ He swallowed his pride and his misgivings, crossed to the other side of the altar, and reached for Ellana more decisively than his true feelings yet warranted.

Tentatively, Solas caressed Ellana's shoulders and neck. She leaned into the touch, urging him on. He moved lower to massage her breasts and felt the nipples harden against his palms. Some obscure urge buried deep inside him whispered, _talk to her._ The words poured out of him before he could think about what he was saying:

"You are lovely like this, Ellana. Lovely, and powerful beyond measure. Sovereignty will be fortunate to work through you. In this place we are fully at your command. Here and now, we will do whatever you ask. We are at your service, _vhenan_ -"

He bit off the endearment abruptly, horrified at having allowed it to slip out. Ellana pulled away from Abelas and regarded Solas not with the anger he was expecting, but with smirking, curious amusement. He lowered his head, and she placed her fingers beneath his chin, forcing him to meet her penetrating gaze. And then she was kissing _him_ , not Abelas, her tongue sliding into his mouth, her other hand firm and insistent on the back of his neck. She paused just long enough to say, "Call me _Inquisitor._ "

Solas would have gladly obliged, had he been able to speak. The increasing fervor of Ellana's kisses did not permit it. He followed her lead, breaking away from time to time to nibble, lick, and suck the exquisitely sensitive tips of her ears. Abelas took over the work of caressing the rest of her body, murmuring his own praises. "Yes, Inquisitor. You are so lovely like this, ruling over us, as is your right. We cannot wait to give you all the pleasure you deserve. I only hope you will allow us to take our own pleasure in return, to show you how you have undone us. Give us our orders. Allow us to serve you. Your wish is our command."

"Touch me," gasped Ellana. "Kiss me. Both of you. Everywhere. Gods, this magic…"

Solas understood exactly what she meant. The energy in the room was steadily mounting, infusing everything and everyone within the wards with dizzying, prickling warmth. The Veil already felt as tattered as his self-control. He didn't know how much of his by-now-obvious arousal - or Abelas's - was due to the spell, and how much was a natural consequence of their activities. He only knew that it demanded satisfaction - and that Ellana surely felt the same.

Together, Abelas and Solas shifted their focus from Ellana's lips to the rest of her body. Together they stroked and kissed her neck, her breasts, her belly, moving inexorably downward as she writhed against their touch and moaned. When she perched on the edge of the altar and spread her legs wide, her meaning was clear. They brushed her inner thighs with light and teasing touches until Abelas, growing bold, slipped two fingers into her. She whimpered and lifted her hips from the stone as she fucked herself with his hand. Solas's own fingers found her clit and rubbed it just the way she liked. Working in tandem, it did not take long for them to drive her over the brink.

Ellana threw her head back and cried out in unabashed ecstasy. The spell crackled dramatically around them, but Solas sensed that it was nowhere near complete. As he and Abelas pulled their hands away from Ellana, she seized them each by the wrist. "I need more," she growled.

Abelas wasted no time. He fell to his knees before the altar, practically shoving Solas out of the way, and put his face between Ellana's legs. She rested her fingertips on the top of his head, a tender and affectionate gesture - but it soon turned demanding as she pushed him toward the places that most needed his attention. She arched her back, pressing herself against his mouth as he licked and sucked her.

Solas watched helplessly for a time, surprised and somewhat ashamed by how much harder the sight of their coupling was making him. Tired of useless voyeurism, he climbed onto the altar and moved behind Ellana. He covered her breasts with his hands, resumed kissing the familiar sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, and was soon rewarded with her second shuddering orgasm. She craned her neck to favor Solas with a sly grin. "Your turn."

With a gentle shove to the center of his chest she urged him to lie down. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing as she lowered herself down onto his waiting mouth. She was soaking wet already from her previous climaxes, and he drank her down gladly as she grinded herself against his searching tongue. He closed his eyes, breathing in the heady scent of her, and anchored his hands on her bucking hips. It was easy this way to forget that Abelas was in the room, to put aside any thoughts of what he might be thinking or doing as he observed them. He focused only on Ellana, and was soon rewarded by her muffled cry and a fresh gush of liquid across his lips and chin.

She lifted herself up from his face, and he sucked in deep lungfuls of fresh, cold air. Now he could more clearly hear the mounting energies of the spell echoing throughout the chamber, along with Abelas's heavy, ragged breathing somewhere near his ear. Ellana had Solas pinned by the shoulders and was sliding slowly down his body, and he realized with a start how desperately erect he had become. His hips snapped involuntarily upwards, fucking the empty air. Now she straddled him but held herself above him, not yet permitting him to enter her. Ellana slowly turned her head toward Abelas, who Solas now saw crouched beside the altar with astonishment, terror, jealousy, and lust warring in his slack-jawed face. She met Abelas's eyes, and they shared a moment of wordless agreement. Ellana looked back at Solas and said flatly, "I want you inside me."

Solas licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Yes, Inquisitor. Use me as you will."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," Ellana said, and in a single swift movement she sheathed his cock within her.

Solas moaned loudly as she engulfed him. She rode him with an increasing pace, her hands pressing down against his chest as his hips rose up to meet each movement. Abelas, performing the same calculus that Solas himself had just performed, edged closer to Ellana and began to kiss her breasts. "Take your pleasure from him, Inquisitor," he murmured against her skin. "Do what you will to him, and when you are finished, I will be waiting."

"It won't be long," gasped Ellana, and Solas knew from how violently she rocked against him that she was right. He, too, felt his own orgasm building at the base of his spine.

"Inquisitor," he grunted between thrusts, "I'm going to - please - I beg you! Let me spend myself in you! Please!"

"Come for me, Solas," she said, and he did. Stars exploded in his vision as pleasure ripped through him. Ellana collapsed onto him and half-sobbed, half-screamed as she joined him. He felt their shared climaxes feeding but not completing the spell, and wondered exactly what it would take for Sovereignty to be satisfied.

Solas returned to himself when he felt Abelas climbing onto the altar to lie beside him. "No," said Ellana, kindly yet decisively. He heard the sound of their lips meeting in a deep, searching kiss and kept his eyes closed to give them one small moment of privacy in the midst of it all. "Take me from behind, Abelas, _vhenan_. Fuck me as hard as you can."

"As you command, Inquisitor," said Abelas breathlessly. Solas rolled out of the way and stood awkwardly to one side, shaky and light-headed in the wake of his orgasm, as Ellana and Abelas got into position. Abelas rubbed her shoulders and her back with light, comforting touches, and whispered something sweet and affectionate to her even as they both twitched and shuddered in shared arousal. _The spell has mastered us all,_ he thought. Ellana was utterly insatiable, and he himself was still somehow half-erect as he watched Abelas slip into her. _We are at its mercy as much as we are at hers._

Abelas had scarcely begun to move inside Ellana when she turned her head languidly toward Solas. "Come here," she purred. "I want you in my mouth."

Solas couldn't believe it. "At once, Inquisitor," he said as he moved to the opposite end of the altar from Abelas. His cock was still sensitive from his earlier climax, and he groaned in mingled pleasure and pain when Ellana's lips closed around him. Each forceful thrust that Abelas made carried through Ellana's body and into him, and he did his best to match their rhythm.

To his surprise, Abelas spoke. "Is this what you wanted, Inquisitor? Two powerful mages, utterly in your thrall? Today, it is what you have. We will do anything if you will only permit us to take our pleasure. In exchange, we will give you everything we are. Only say the word and we will worship your body with ours. It is what you are owed."

Solas was too desperately aroused to quibble with the details of what Abelas was saying. Instead, he added to it. "Yes, Inquisitor. We are yours. You honor me with what you do. I am not - oh! - I am not worthy to feel your tongue on my cock. Your mouth has conquered armies with its words alone. Now it conquers me."

Abelas broke in. "Do you feel how stiff it has made me, watching you have your way with Solas? Seeing him made helpless with lust before you? He is powerful, yet in your hands he is nothing. You claim him as your own, just as you have done to me...I am yours, _ma vhenan,_ my mind, my body, my very soul... _ar lath ma...ar lath ma...bell'anaris..._ " He was babbling in Elvhen now, praising Ellana with ancient fragments of half-remembered poetry, and Solas joined him. Their voices mingled and interweaved and echoed off the domed ceiling of the temple, rising in tandem as Ellana's mouth and cunt brought them to new heights of ecstasy.

Solas wasn't sure how much time had passed when Abelas finally gasped, "Inquisitor...I can't...I am going to…" _His restraint is commendable,_ thought Solas distantly; Ellana had come around him several times already, Abelas had somehow endured those sweet sensations without following her. Solas knew that only his earlier climax had prevented him from spilling down her throat already.

Ellana pulled her mouth away from Solas, and he whimpered at the sudden loss of contact. "Do it," she said. "Give it all to me." Abelas gave a frenzied thrust, and another, then bellowed as he climaxed. Solas noted with surprise that the growing enchantment was actually visible now, its energies gathering around Ellana in a cloud of soft green mist as she rode out the sporadic aftershocks of Abelas's orgasm. She hissed, _"I'm still not finished."_

She crawled forward on the altar and spun around to regard Abelas - his chest heaving, his knees buckling, his loins slick with their mingled fluids. The spell coalesced in her outstretched palm, around the mark. The Anchor's magic - _Solas's_ magic - surged and roiled, and he felt its echo as a shimmer of sweet sensation down his spine. Ellana seized Abelas's softening cock in her Fade-marked hand and stroked it slowly and lasciviously from root to tip, coating it in vibrant energy. Solas felt the spell pulse in time with each motion of her fist, saw Abelas improbably stiffen once more in her grip. His own throbbing erection twitched against his stomach at the sight. "Again," she commanded. She reclined and opened her legs, and Abelas plunged back inside her.

Solas was beyond shame, beyond timidness, beyond rational thought. He tiptoed nearer to where Abelas was inexhaustibly fucking Ellana, found her clit again, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Ellana was coming almost continuously now, each spike of pleasure following immediately after the next. Shakily, she reached out and closed her hand around Solas's dripping cock. He fucked violently into her fist. They were all beyond speech now. The only sounds in the chamber were the wet slapping of flesh on flesh and the occasional gasp or low, breathy moan.

As Solas felt his orgasm approaching, instinct took over. He lunged forward, jerking himself out of Ellana's grip, as hot jets of seed shot out of him and landed on the sigil painted on her belly. Distantly he realized that Abelas was joining him, pulling out at the last possible second to spill on Ellana's skin. A deafening scream of ecstasy burst from Ellana's throat as the spell culminated along with their shared climaxes. The magic washed over Solas like the shock wave from a soundless explosion, drenching his consciousness in overwhelming sensation. He roared like a wild creature as he submerged himself in its depths.

When he came back to full awareness, Ellana was hovering above the altar.

Solas was on his knees before her. He didn't remember kneeling. Beside him, Abelas was in the same posture, his face a slack-jawed, awestruck mirror of Solas's own. Ellana looked down at the both of them, regal and benevolent, wreathed in a bright corona of power. The Anchor in her palm gleamed with an unearthly light, spilling Fade energies throughout the temple with an intensity Solas had never dreamed possible. It was Sovereignty, yes, but it was also Ellana, the spirit's presence enhancing her innate charisma just as the ritual had promised. He could spend his whole life praising this indomitable will without ever giving it the full respect and gratitude it deserved. Before such strength, how could he do anything except obey?

Abelas, his eyes wet with unshed tears, lowered his forehead to the ground in supplication. Solas did the same. He felt Ellana's hand on the top of his head, an act of both blessing and claiming. He held perfectly still and let her assert her authority over him, the first command of so many he would soon follow. Solas had agreed to perform this one last favor as a way of hedging his bets and assuaging his guilt before the final battle called him away from her forever. But no matter what happened with Corypheus now, everything he had helped to unleash would no longer allow him to abandon her. He, she, and Abelas had created a bond that his heart could not imagine escaping, even as the remnants of Fen'Harel inside him raged and thrashed against the bars of the cage in which he had imprisoned his other self. _My highest loyalty is to Ellana now,_ he thought, and pride mingled with dread as he realized the inescapable truth of the vow. Solas trembled at Ellana's feet, all of his vast intentions laid to waste by the even more overwhelming vastness of her newfound power, and knew with a sinking feeling that his submission to the Inquisitor's sovereignty was only just beginning.


End file.
